Haunted Waterways (Dark Legacy Series Book 2)

by Sara Clancy

  “Louis,” she begged, her voice laced with barely restrained tears.

  He peeled his eyes open and stared at the carpet as they slowly adjusted to the newly regained light. When the pain subsided, he turned to face her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “Can you hear me?” she dipped down to fill his view.

  Unsure he was able to speak, Louis nodded carefully, attempting to keep the movement too slow to bring another onslaught of nausea. Still, bile worked its way up his throat, forcing him to swallow repeatedly to fight off the urge to vomit.

  “Are you okay?” Marigold asked in a whisper.

  The fingers of her free hand were blissfully cool as she flittered over the overheated skin of his neck. Louis let his eyelids fall and took a moment to enjoy the contact. It smothered the lingering traces of pain and silenced the tracing voices that repeated its command. It seemed like she couldn’t decide where to touch him, or if she should. She handled him like she thought he would shatter under the slightest amount of pressure.

  “Louis?”

  His lips quirked at the horrible mispronunciation of his name and he forced his eyes back open. This time, when the slight nod didn’t churn his stomach, he took the risk to speak.

  “I’m okay, cher. Are you?”

  “Yeah,” she forced out on a panted breath.

  “Help me up?”

  It took both of them to return him to a sitting position. He braced his forearms against his knees and cradled his head. At least the spiders are gone, he thought to himself. It was a small mercy but one he was eternally thankful for. Hands no longer clogged the windows and the tainted light washed into the room, only hindered by the dirt upon the glass and the fog beyond. In the dim glow, Louis spotted Rene and Cordelia a few feet away, they leant heavily against each other and constantly reassuring one another that they are okay. He caught Cordelia’s eyes and she gently smiled at him. He smiled back as best as he could.

  “What happened?” Marigold asked.

  Rene snapped his head up and his face instantly paled with the need to vomit. He pushed through the sensation to speak, but kept the words quick and flat, like he was worried to keep his mouth open for too long.

  “You didn’t hear any of that?”

  “Any of what? The knocking?” Marigold asked with clear desperation.

  “You didn’t hear the voices?” Cordelia said.

  Marigold shook her head in bafflement, her eyes skirting between them all. “What voices? What were they saying?”

  All eyes fell upon Louis and he bit his lips, “It doesn’t matter, Maggie.”

  “It was telling us that if we kill you, it will let us go,” Rene said. The man met Louis’ glare with a calmed demeanor and added, “I think she has a right to know.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me that?” Marigold demanded.

  Each word thundered in Louis’ head and he rested his forehead back down against his palms, “I was going to tell you when you told me about the corpses.”

  “Sass isn’t a good look on a man,” Cordelia chastised.

  He waved her off. “There’s no reason to tell her since it’s a stupid demand that no one is going to fulfil.”

  “So, we’re not even gonna talk it out?” Even when faced with all of their glares Rene refused to back down, his face a perfect mask. “I’m still playing catch-up here, but even I understand that it’s only a matter of time before that demon,” his mouth curled around the word like it left a foul taste, “gets in here. What will it do to us when that happens? And I can’t be the only one who noticed that the things in the window are gone. Why would they leave? It’s waiting on something, it’s waiting to see what we’ll do and if doing what it wants is our only chance of surviving we need to toss the idea about.”

  “It’s playing a mind game,” Louis said with controlled calm. “That’s what it does. This particular demon has a fetish for forcing people to inflict pain on others. To break them down until they’re willing to kill. At least try and give it a challenge, Rene.”

  “Does any of that change what the outcome of this situation will be?” Rene said. “If we hold out, will it leave us alone? Or will it kill us too? Because I’m not all too certain you can keep it out.”

  “We only have to hold out until dawn,” Cordelia said. “The ghosts will be weaker then. Without Poppy acting as a guard dog, we’ll be able to hike to the nearest town for help.”

  “So it’s just going to let us go?”

  Her eyes narrowed, “We’re not killing Marigold. How are you even contemplating that?”

  Rene didn’t look away. “How are you not?”

  “You’re being scary and disturbing, sugar. Now would be a good time to stop talking.”

  “If I have to kill Marigold to keep you safe, I’ll do it,” he turned his attention to Marigold. Louis instinctively tightened his hold on her hand, drawing her closer. “It’s nothing personal.”

  “I understand,” Marigold mumbled.

  “You’re both insane and we’re not having this conversation,” Louis snapped. He continued before Rene could respond. “It’s never a good idea to do what a demon wants you to do. As a general rule, do the opposite. Really, I shouldn’t have to explain that.”

  “Fine,” Rene said. “Then what’s your plan?”

  “What?”

  “If even the notion is so far out of the question, I’m guessing that you have an alternative. So what is it? What do we do now?”

  Louis held Rene’s demanding gaze for as long as he could. But eventually, he turned to Cordelia and mumbled, “I can’t keep it out. I don’t have the equipment or the skill.”

  “So what do we do?” Rene pressed.

  Louis tumbled into his own thoughts but his mind was still a garbled mess. Every case he had ever experienced, every book he had ever read, every story and urban legend he had ever been told all bubbled to the surface of his thoughts. There had to be something. Anything. A cold breeze swept up his spine as one option rose above the others. It was a horrible choice and yet he still found himself meeting Cordelia’s gaze with conviction.

  “We trap it.”

  He had hoped that she might not have understood the connotations of what he was suggesting, but his cousin’s eyes instantly widened and she froze. With a breathy, disbelieving laugh, she shook her head. Rene either didn’t notice or care about Cordelia’s reaction and was quick to jump on the idea.

  “That’s an option?” he asked.

  “Normally, you would need a graveyard. But the corpses in the water could work,” Louis replied. “And it is a location of death. Together that might be enough to make it work. We have a chance to pull it off.”

  Marigold turned to face him fully, “Why haven’t we tried that before?”

  “Because it’s an insane idea,” Cordelia said in a firm voice. “Louie, this is a demon. Why on earth would you think you know how to do this?”

  “I’ve seen it done.”

  “In person?”

  Louis hesitated and hoped that Cordelia didn’t notice or question. “In videotapes.”

  “Great uncle Marius’ tapes?” His stomach lurched, of course she knew. “Our great uncle who was removed from our family tree with a vengeance? Have you lost your little mind?”

  “Who was Marius?” Marigold asked.

  “He was a conjurer,” Louis said.

  “He was a Satanist who dabbled in black magic,” Cordelia corrected. “Who even let you touch those tapes?”

  “The point is that I’ve seen them, and it’s something you remember. I know how to do it.”

  “You’re talking about blood magic. Dark conjuring. Auntie would slap you silly if she ever heard that you were even thinking about this. And if you don’t watch yourself, I’m going to take a few swings myself.”

  Louis held her eyes, “Do you have a better option?”

  “Slathering yourself in chicken innards and going for a swim in the bayou is a better option,” she s
hot back. “There has to be another way.”

  “Trapping it seems like a good thing,” Rene said.

  “That’s because you have no idea what’s going on,” Cordelia’s rage grew but her tone could never be described as anything but polite. “This is dangerous.”

  “I severed its connection to Marigold,” Louis said. “For it to be this strong, it has to be feeding off something. It’s got a strong connection to an energy that’s pure, raw, and strong, and unless we get rid of that we’re never going to get rid of it. But if we trap it, that connection will automatically be severed. We’ll be able to exorcise it, once and for all.”

  “So you’re saying you want to try and trap a fully formed and well-fed demon?” Cordelia paused for a moment. “Come over here, I want to smack the silly out of you.”

  “I’m saying that our options are very limited right now. Rene is right, in a way. When it gets in here, it won’t be merciful. We need to do something drastic.”

  Cordelia shook her head, her pretty features twisting in barely suppressed anger even as Rene tried to calm her.

  “Trapping it can’t be a bad idea,” Marigold said.

  “At least no one will have to die,” Rene added.

  Rage flashed in Cordelia’s eyes and she turned to Louis. “Go on then,” she said. “Tell them what we’re going to put it in.”

  “Do we need a box?” Rene asked. “Or like a kid’s toy? They always seem to get possessed in the movies.”

  “Oh, no,” Cordelia said with forced cheerfulness. “This demon is far too strong for that. And besides, Great uncle never liked doing things that way.”

  “So what would you put it in?” Marigold asked.

  Louis took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Me.”

  Chapter 15

  Marigold felt like her insides had been hollowed out in one vicious pull. She stared at Louis as the words repeated in her head. No matter how many times she heard them, she couldn’t get them to make sense. They had been fighting and bleeding for months to keep it out of her, now he was offering himself up. He didn’t look away, his hazel eyes meeting hers with challenge and determination.

  “You’re going to let it inside of you?” she said softly, barely able to force her mouth to make the words.

  “I’ve been possessed before. I know I can take it.”

  Cordelia’s voice cracked like a whip. “Inviting the benevolent Ioa deities to enter you during voodoo rituals is a completely different situation from having this thing carved out of evil crammed inside of you.” She whirled on Rene and jabbed a finger against his chest. “And I swear, if you make some kind of smartass comment right now I’m filing for divorce.”

  “I can do this,” Louis insisted.

  “Have you forgotten what demonic possession is?” When she failed to get a reaction out of Louis, Cordelia turned her attention to Marigold. “It eats you. Like a parasite, like a disease. It destroys your memories, your personality, your beliefs. It makes your very sense of self, fester inside of you. It rots you from the inside out. And when you have nothing let, it devours your soul.”

  “Stop this,” Louis said.

  Cordelia didn’t look away from Marigold’s eyes. “Are you going to let him do that?”

  “This isn’t on her.”

  “If you’re not going to listen to me, reason, common sense, or your self-preservation instinct, maybe you’ll listen to her.”

  “I don’t hear you offering another option,” Louis said.

  “It doesn’t want you, Louis. It will fight.”

  He tried to dismiss the words, “I’ve annoyed it a bit.”

  “That just makes it worse,” Cordelia snapped.

  “You said it yourself,” Louis cut in. “We just need to survive until dawn. We do the ritual–”

  “The banned blood magic conjuring,” Cordelia corrected.

  Louis released a slow breath and continued, “Yes. That. We trap it inside me. I hold it until dawn and then we get Ma to get it out.”

  “Oh, of course, I’ve forgotten how easy exorcisms are.” Cordelia rolled her eyes.

  “The only other option on the table is to kill Marigold. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Marigold looked between the relatives. During the argument, Louis had released her hand. She now twisted her fingers around themselves until her knuckles strained, a moment away from dislocating. She swallowed thickly but finally found her breath.

  “Why not me?”

  Louis whirled around to face her, “What?”

  “Why don’t we put it in me? It wants me. Reason says it won’t fight as much.”

  “No,” Louis said sharply. His tone left no room for argument but she pushed forward anyway.

  “It’s better than it going into you.”

  “How?” Louis said. “It wants to destroy you.”

  “Doesn’t it want to destroy everyone?” Rene asked.

  Louis gnashed his teeth as he glared at the man, “Stay out of this.”

  “It makes more sense for it to be me,” Marigold persisted. “I won’t know what do to it when it has you and I’m not strong enough to restrain you.”

  “Maggie, the process is dangerous. You could die.”

  “Funny how you didn’t mention that when we were discussing putting it inside you.” Cordelia received the same reaction for her intrusion as Rene had.

  Marigold reached out and grabbed his wrist, forcing his attention back to her.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  “No,” Louis said. “And you can’t make me do it.”

  “No, but I can choose to back Rene’s plan.”

  Louis raked a hand over his head, “I know things look helpless but you can’t just jump to suicide.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Marigold said as she squeezed his wrist, “But I’m not going to let you die for me. I brought all of this upon you.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “But I did it,” she said. Louis lowered his head and squeezed his eyes. “I can do this. Just let me help you, Louis.”

  He tried to smile but couldn’t make it happen, “You’re still pronouncing that wrong.”

  The silence that lingered within the room was destroyed by the return of the screaming wind. The windows rattled and the room trembled. The scattered tables rattled across the ballroom floor, the rested metal scraping against the wood. They all scrambled for purchase as the boat heaved. Louis didn’t wait for the quake to pass before he lifted his gaze to meet Marigold. He knew she saw the defeat that was turning his bones to stone but he still tried to hide his fear, his disgust. It wasn’t just the risk that drove him to the brink of being violently ill. The spell demanded things he wasn’t quite sure he could bring himself to do. But they were desperate. He hated himself for letting it come to this. The floor settled and Marigold tightened her fingers around his wrist.

  She took a deep breath, “What do we need to do?”

  Marigold took pride in the amount of strength she had managed to put into the question. She didn’t feel an ounce of it. But she couldn’t let him see. If he knew how terrified she was he would insist on taking her place.

  “I’ll need a knife,” Louis mumbled as he skirted his eyes to Rene. “Do you still have the meat cleaver?”

  Rene held it up. His attempt to make the motion look casual failed because of his obvious white knuckled grip.

  “What else?” Cordelia refused to look at anyone as she said the words, her shoulders hunched and her face low.

  “A candle, blood, some free space, and something flammable that I can draw on,” he licked his lips and forced himself to continue. “We’ll also need a way to restrain her once it’s done.”

  Cordelia glanced over his shoulder to the ballroom. “We have a lot of tablecloths?”

  “I think I’ve still got some candles in the bar at the back,” Marigold said as she got to her feet.

  Her socks squished against the floor with her every step. Cor
delia retrieved a tablecloth as Rene pushed aside a bunch of tables and chairs to clear a space in the middle of the room. Brushing the layer of dead leaves aside, Louis used the meat cleaver to scratch into the floorboards. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, making each symbol from memory. Marigold tried not to think about it. About what it meant.

  It’s going to be bad, it’s going to hurt, a voice in her head whispered despite her attempts to ignore it. Louis wouldn’t study satanic practices. He wouldn’t remember it by choice. Whatever he had seen on that tape had burnt itself into his memory like a branding iron.

  Dropping onto her knees, Marigold sorted through the boxes that were packed under the flimsy counter. She couldn’t quite remember where she had put the candles, but she knew they were there. She pushed aside a few lanterns and crumbling cardboard boxes, finally finding the small box of candles and matchbox tucked away in a corner. She ran back just as Rene and Cordelia settled the blanket into place.

  Marigold could feel Louis’ eyes on her, watching her carefully as she scattered the candles. His mouth was pressed into a fine line as he nervously picked at the cleaver’s chipped handle. When the candles were lit and everything else was in position, Marigold turned to him for the next task. He lowered his eyes.

  “Blood, right,” Marigold said as a sinking pit opened up in her stomach. “You need mine.”

  “Just a little,” he mumbled.

  His jaw twitched and he lowered his face further. Her gentle smile of reassurance was lost as he refused to look at her face. She knelt down and presented her hand.

  “It’ll be alright in the end,” she said.

  His lips jerked as he closed his eyes. “We just have to keep going until we get there, yeah?”

  “Exactly.”

  Louis delicately cupped the back of her hand, his skin warm and solid. A gentle caress. The blade of the knife bit at the skin of her palm. Louis moved as quickly as he could, his fingers massaging the back of her hand like he could ease the pain. He instructed her on how to spread the blood, the symbols she needed to create across the tablecloth. She didn’t recognize any of them and dirt began to gather in the wound.